CHAPTER FIVE
Jake stood in the shadows of the concrete wall, glancing across an alleyway at a window in the bottom unit of a two-story duplex apartment. The only light in the area came from a street lamp at the end of the alley, about one-hundred yards away, it had taken him thirty minutes to find the place—he’d had a hard time driving and relaxing his mind and then trying not to think about what he was going to face or if he could believe what Moroni told him, or even if the priest had been right. Every time he’d begun to think about aby of these thoughts, he’d lost track of the ‘pointer’ in his head, he’d had to breathe and let his mind sink back into it’s meditative state.
Once he’d gotten close to the building, he had the distinct feeling that what he was seeking was in the duplex. He’d parked the car in a parking lot a block away, made sure the knife and Holy water were secure; the knife in his waistband, the bottle in his back pocket. He’d walked around the block a few times, checking out the area, planning escape routes, seeing if there were any people around, if there was anything odd or out of place, He didn’t see or notice anything unusual, it appeared to be a normal residential neighbourhood in a small town that could be anywhere in the United States.
Jake glanced around one last time, then, walked across the alley to the window. It had a metal frame which slid up and down. He looked outside through a gap in a light-coloured pair of curtains at a small living room. There was a dark coloured couch with a low table in front of it that had a stack of magazines and a Playstation controller on it. Beside the couch was a La-z-boy reclining chair. There was a large flat screen TV on the far wall and a stereo system on the shelves set into the wall beside the TV. He saw nothing unusual, and no movement. Jake looked at the lock on the window, searching for any alarm devices. To his surprise, the latch was unlocked. He shook his head. That could mean one of two things, either the lock was left that way out of habit or unknowingly, or the demon was completely unafraid of anyone that could come through the window. Jake clenched his teeth, making his jaw muscles bulge. Well, he’s definitely going to have something to be afraid of tonight, he thought. He reached out slowly and pulled upward until the window was completely open. He carefully leaned in and listened for a few moments. He couldn’t hear or sense anything. So, he leaned back out, stuck his left leg in, stooped, and gracefully entered the room. He tripped on a small object on the floor. He stumbled a few steps then, caught his balance. He stood still for a few moments, willing his heart to slow down, then, turned to look at the object.
It was a bone.
He knelt down on a knee and picked it up to examine it. His stomach lurched as he noticed bite marks on it. He tasted bile in the back of his throat but swallowed several times to rid himself of the sourness. He almost lost it again when he realized the bone was a human thigh bone, and there were little bits of grisly meat attached to it. He stared at it in horror for a moment, then started to put it down when he felt a presence in his head and felt a presence enter the room. He turned his head toward the doorway and saw a shadow standing there. Jake stood up, turned toward the shadow, and pulled his knife out of his waistband in one fluid motion. He squinted his eyes, trying to make any features in the shadow, when it took a step forward and came into view.
It was a man.
Jake was dumbfounded for a few seconds and he took a step back in surprise. He didn’t know what he would be expecting, but it certainly had not been this. He was starting to contemplate his next step when suddenly the man’s form changed.
The transformation started at the top and worked downward. Jake saw a shimmering, as if a great amount of heat was surrounding the man, then the face changed, from that of an average looking man to what Jake would only think of as a nightmare come to life. He knew immediately that this was the demon he was sent to take care of. He put all of his doubts aside as he watched the end of the transformation. His adrenaline started pumping and his heart beat skyrocketed as he looked at what stood there.
The first thing that was immediately apparent was that it was BIG! The man’s form he’d first seen had been about six feet tall. This demon was well over nine feet tall, maybe even over ten feet, and it was at least twice as wide as Jake.
It’s body was remarkably human, just on a larger scale, and it’s skin was red and black with scarring all over, as if it had been severely burned. The face was burned also, but only slightly, and Jake could see that underneath the burns, the bone structure could have been called handsome. What turned the creature into a nightmare were the eyes.
It had over two dozen of them—several on its’ face and at least a dozen spread across the upper body. They were all red and about twice the size of a normal human eye. Jake shuddered when all of the eyes turned toward him and blinked.
He took a deep breath in preparation of attacking, and coughed at the smell of burning coals, the copper scent of blood, and burned meat. He suppressed the urge to keep coughing and started to step forward to plunge the knife into the demon’s body, hopefully in its’ heart, when he was stopped by a voice. A human voice!!!!
“What—what are you doing in my house,” it asked.
Jake hesitated for a moment, questioning his eyes. He looked at the beast, squinting to make sure. The shimmering continued, this time changing the image of the beast back into the original shape of the man. But this time, there was still a shadow of the demon superimposed like a shadowy figure around the man’s body.
Jake shook his head slightly, tightened his fist over the knife’s handle and pointed it at the beast.
“I’m here to send you back to Hell, demon,” Jake said, then he lunged forward intending to plunge the knife into the demon’s heart, but he was too slow.
For such a large creature, the demon moved incredibly fast. As Jake moved forward a step, he felt what he could only describe as a psychic wave come from the demon, first of surprise, then of anger.
The demon easily side-stepped Jake’s lunge, stepping to Jake’s right, then swiping Jake’s stomach with one of its’ clawed hands. Jake stumbled to the side and hit the wall, hard, then slid to the ground. He tried to get up but couldn’t. He looked down and gasped in horror as he saw why. His stomach had four wide slashes in it, from left to right, starting at his chest and going down to his waist. His intestines were falling out of the open cavity, blood was all over him and the floor. There was so much blood, it looked as if someone had emptied a five-gallon bucket over him. Jake looked up and groaned as he saw the demon coming toward him.
It stopped in front of Jake and leaned down until its’ face was a foot from Jake’s face.
“Who are you, human, and how did you know me?” Jake cringed at the smell of rotting meat coming from its’ mouth, Its’ voice was much deeper and Jake could hear it in his head also, He tried to reply, but his lungs didn’t seem to be working and blood splashed over his chin. They must have been slashed too, he thought.
“Yes, human,” the voice vibrated inside his head. “Your lungs were slashed. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need to hear your voice to understand you.” The beast moved closer, smiling at Jake, showing a mouthful of long, very sharp teeth. It started to say something to Jake in a gloating tone, but Jake didn’t hear what the demon said, because he was occupied with two things. The first was that over the demon’s shoulder Jake could see a figure standing outside the open window he’d used to enter the apartment. It took Jake a moment to realize it was Father McLanahan. Jake looked away from the window and tried to empty his mind, hoping the demon didn’t pick up his thoughts of the priest, but his attempts to clear his mind was too late.
The demon’s smile became wider, stretching the burned skin of the beast’s face impossibly wider.
“Ah, you brought dessert with you!!!!” The demon said gleefully, then started to turn toward the window. That’s when Jake used the last of his quickly waning energy to take care of the second thing that was occupying him.
The knife was still clenched in his fist.
As the demon’s mind left Jake’s mind and it became momentarily preoccupied with the priest at the window, Jake plunged the knife into one of the demon’s eyes, the one located on the left side of its’ chest. Jake hoped that’s where the heart was. The demon shouted in surprise and pain. Its’ voice was so loud in Jake’s head, he thought his brain was going to explode. He gritted his teeth and waited to see if the beast died.
The demon stood up to its’ full height, stumbled back a few steps, then pulled the knife out of the wound. A little bit of the creature’s blood, a black, vicious looking substance, ran out of the wound, then stopped. It grinned at Jake as the wound closed and healed itself, leaving no trace that it had ever been there. The demon laughed and Jake’s hopes were crushed.
All of the demon’s eyes, including the one Jake had stabbed, focused on Jake. “Did you think this puny weapon would hurt me,” it said, holding the knife up. It sniffed in disgust then dropped the blade to the floor.
As Jake’s vision started to fade and he started the final plunge into death, he heard Father McLanahan’s voice ring loudly from behind the demon.
“No, you foul beast from Hell, but this will!!!!” Jake struggled to focus his eyes on the priest. He last thing he saw was McLanahan standing in the room, with what looked like a bar of bright white light in his hands, Jake sighed and let go as everything faded away.
******************************
Jake sat at a table in the bar in Purgatory, or wherever it was, waiting for Moroni. There was a drink sitting in front of him, but he ignored it. He’d tried drinking when he’d gotten here, but he did not feel any effects. Plus, his anger was about to explode and he didn’t want to complicate matters by adding alcohol to it. Even if he could turn off its’ effects by concentrating, Plus, it felt good to be back in his own body again.
He’d been sitting in the bar for what seemed like days; the time here was strange, and there weren’t any clocks, plus, he didn’t feel any need to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom, so it was hard to tell how long he’d been waiting.
He’d woken up at the same table he’d been at before and had asked the same waitress, Betty, to contact Moroni for him. She’d picked up a telephone behind the bar and had left a message for the man, then told Jake that Moroni would get there soon. When Jake had listened to the message on the phone, it had said to be patient and Moroni would be around to see him as soon as he could. So, basically he was stuck waiting for who knew how long. While he was waiting, Jake thought about the last thing he’d seen before he’d died; why had the priest decided to follow him, and what was the bar of light he’d been carrying? He hoped that McLanahan was alright and that the demon had not killed him, too. To keep himself from worrying about what had happened to the man, Jake prepared for the coming confrontation with Moroni by composing all of the questions and arguments in his mind.
He was transposing what McLanahan had told him about Purgatory and idly using his finger to trace diagrams of the symbols that he’d seen on the priest’s ring in a puddle of water on the bar when he felt a presence at his left side. He looked over. It was Moroni.
“Hello, again, Mr. Steele. It’s good to see you again, although,” he paused and looked Jake up and down, “I didn’t think you’d be back so quickly. But, then again, I did figure you would fail at your first try.” He grinned, and Jake saw the strange shadow of the man’s skull for a brief moment before Moroni turned and motioned Jake toward the table they’d sat at the last time.
“Let’s go have a seat and discuss things,” He walked toward the table without turning to see if Jake was following. Jake got up and walked over to the table, then sat down across from Moroni.
“So, Moroni,” Jake said. “We have a lot of things to talk about, the first being what took you so long to get here? I’ve been waiting for,” he started to say, days but changed it, “uh, a long time.”
Moroni stared at Jake for a moment, then waited as the waitress, Betty, brought a bottle of Gentleman Jack Daniels, placing it and two shot glasses on the table in front of Moroni. She gave Jake a sympathetic look, then walked back to the bar to pick up another order. Moroni poured a shot for himself and motioned for the other glass, asking without words if Jake wanted one. Jake responded by taking the shot glass and turning it upside down. He then sat back in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Moroni to start talking.
Moroni played it out for a minute, drinking the whiskey shot, then carefully filled the glass again. When he set the bottle down, he grinned wickedly at Jake then finally responded to Jake’s question.
“Well, Mr. Steele, as you may have recognized, time here is irrelevant. It really was not that long. It just seemed like a long time.” He took a sip of the whiskey. “And,” he continued before Jake could say anything, “I have other things I need to do. So, there’s your first answer. What else do you have?” He smirked, and Jake had to control his temper. He had more to gain by talking than by hurting Moroni, or by trying to hurt him, Jake thought as he remembered the strange shadow on the man’s face.
Moroni grinned knowingly, as if he knew what Jake was thinking. Jake shook his head and asked the next question.
“Is this really Purgatory, or somewhere else? I talked to a Catholic priest while I was down there,” he motioned to the air. “And he explained that purgatory was pretty much a way point on the road to Heaven and that it was where the spirit was purified before moving forward. He didn’t say anything about this being a holding place for people who had neutral or negative balance.” Jake leaned his elbows on the table and looked intently at Moroni. “So, tell me, where are we, and who are you?”
Moroni stopped grinning and looked back at Jake with an intensity similar to Jake’s.
“Mr. Steele, we ARE in Purgatory.” He put his glass down and pointed at Jake to emphasize his pointed. “You see, Just like Heaven and Hell, there are different levels to this place. At this level,” Moroni waved his arm around, indicating the bar, “your degree of love of self is still too strong and you must go through a purification process that will be shorter and less…” he paused. “Painful if you will. It will also benefit both of us by eliminating what could become a very big problem for the human souls still on Earth.” He looked at Jake intently, then continued.
“As for who I am, the only thing I can tell you is that I am an agent for those that want the demons sent back where they belong.” He raised a hand to stop Jake before he said anything.
“No, Mr. Steele, I’m not from Hell, nor am I from Heaven. I’m a completely neutral party that was contracted to perform a service.” He stopped and looked at his watch.
“Now, even though time is of no consequence here, I need to be going soon, so, I’ll give you two more questions.” He looked at Jake and emptied his glass again. Jake shook his head slightly not understanding the affectation. He focused.
“Okay, I’ll choose to believe on who you are and where we are. Now, my big question is how do I kill the demons and why didn’t you tell me before so that I’d be better prepared? I used a knife dipped in Holy water, but it didn’t seem to work, and I was killed before I even had a chance to do anything else. Plus, I think that the priest that I talked to may be in danger, too.”
“Oh? And how would he be in danger,” Moroni asked.
“Well, right before I died, he came through the window behind the demon and challenged him.” Jake told Moroni what the priest said to the demon and about the bar of bright light he’d been carrying.
Moroni’s facial expression changed and the skin around his eyes tightened as he looked at Jake. He put his half-full shot glass down on the table so forcefully, some of the whiskey splashed onto the table.
“A bar of light,” he said. “What else did he look like? Did he have any symbols on his clothes? Was he wearing any jewellery? Did you see him attack the demon?”
Jake was taken aback for a moment by Moroni’s intensity, then he recovered and raised his hands.
“Wait, wait, wait, Moroni. Why are you so interested in the priest; and why don’t you answer my question first? Jake closed his mouth and sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, making his point clear that he wouldn’t be saying anything more until the man answered his questions.
Moroni looked at him a moment, swallowed another shot of the whiskey, set the empty glass down, then answered.
“Alright, Mr. Steele, I’ll answer your questions.” He paused for a moment to look at Jake’s facial expression. “ All of your questions, at least, the ones that I can at this time, but then I want you to answer mine, agreed?” Jake nodded. Moroni settled back into his chair and moved around for a moment, as if he were trying to get comfortable, then started talking.
“Alright. There are several ways to kill the demons, or banish them back to Hell. The first two ways are fairly easy, and the others are more complicated and I don’t have time to explain. Ok?”
Jake nodded again and stayed quiet, his mind focused on what Moroni was saying.
“Okay, the first is to use a weapon that has been created to specifically destroy demons. It’s forged a specific way and the person who makes it goes through a lengthy, complicated procedure that ends in their death.” Moroni paused for a moment to sip from his glass and Jake almost told him that this was what the priest had told him too, but stopped himself. Moroni put the glass down and continued.
“As far as I know there are one hundred such weapons on the planet, so if you can find one, that would be your best bet.”
“How do I find one,” Jake interrupted.
“Well, that’s up to you, Mr. Steele. I guess you could look on your internet for any legends that have to do with demon killing, or check with any religious leaders, or if your priest is still alive, you can ask him. Did you get a chance to talk to him much before you were killed? Did you—“
Jake held up his hand to stop Moroni. He shook his head, grinning without humor.
“No, no, Moroni. Give me the rest of the answers I need, then we will talk about Father McLanahan.” He let the man have the priest’s name to keep him interested.
“Okay,” Moroni replied. “Where was I? Oh, right. The second way to kill or vanquish the demon is to have a priest or someone similar to purify you, after you go through a cleansing ritual, then you can use a spell or a ritual to stop or slow the demon for a short time, a very short time, and then you use a bladed weapon to decapitate it. Once the head is separated from the body, you must place them in separate containers and destroy them by means of an Enochian spell.” He raised his hand to stop Jake from speaking. “I don’t know the spell. You can find out by asking your religious people. There are specific groups that are formed specifically to vanquish or kill demons. If you can find one, they can help you. Now,” He looked at Jake for a moment, and Jake saw the shadowy skull beneath the features. Jake realized that the man used the effect whenever he wanted to, and that explained some things. Jake figured he was going to ask something about the priest again. He was right.
“Tell me a little bit about this priest. McLanahan, you said his name was. Did he have any symbols on his clothes or wear any jewellery with symbols on it? How did you meet him and what did you talk about?”
“Yes,” Jake answered. He did have some jewellery; a ring with a green stone and symbols on it.” He then explained where he met the man and what they’d talked about.
“Alright,” Moroni said, when Jake finished. Can you show me what the symbols looked like?” He took his half empty shot glass and poured a little bit of the whiskey carefully on the table, then asked Jake to sketch the symbols he could remember in the liquid.
Jake nodded his head then closed his eyes to concentrate, remembering the few minutes he’d talked to McLanahan, and visualizing the ring. The image came to him clearly, he dipped his finger in the spilled whiskey and drew out the symbols to the side of the puddle. As he drew, something strange happened. As each of the symbols was completed, they started to glow, as if they were phosphorous. Jake hesitated for a moment, but didn’t stop. The glow was soft at first and barely noticeable, but by the time he was through sketching all of the symbols, the light had become so bright it was shining like a miniature sun, and hurting his eyes. He tried to shade them with his arm, but the light was so bright, he could see the bones through his skin and the material of his sleeve. As the light fell on his face, Jake felt an intense wave of heat throughout his body, and with the heat, he felt a strength and confidence saturate him to his inner core as he’d never felt before.
There was a sudden sound from across the table, and the light was suddenly extinguished as Moroni swiped his hands across the symbols, wiping them from the surface.
Jake looked in Moroni’s direction, but couldn’t see him for a moment through the spots in his eyes. When his sight returned, he looked at the man.
“Wow. What the hell was that.”
“Hell, is the wrong choice of words, Mr. Steele,” Moroni chuckled at his own joke. “It was in fact the opposite. The symbols that you drew were from one of the groups I was telling you about, the groups I was telling you about, the groups that vanquish demons. My guess is that the bar of light that you saw in your priest’s hands was one of the special weapons I mentioned. So that means when you go back, you can contact him for help in your endeavour.” He paused a moment. “That is, if Crocell didn’t kill him.” He said beneath his breath.
“Crocell? Who’s Crocell,” Jake asked.
“Oh, uh the demon who killed you was named Crocell, and he’s one of the seventy-two Demon Kings of Hell.”
“Demon Kings?” Jake raised his voice, then looked around, but no one had seemed to notice. “Now, I’m not only fighting demons, I’m fighting Demon Kings? Dammit, Moroni! What else haven’t you told me, and why didn’t you tell me this before so that I’d have been better prepared?” Jake pounded his fist on the table in anger. He stopped himself from hitting the man. He needed the information, and striking Moroni wouldn’t do him any good. Plus, he didn’t know what Moroni was and if hitting him would hurt him at all. He breathed and reluctantly let the tension flow from him.
Moroni smirked again, as if he knew what Jake was feeling, then answered Jake.
“Mr. Steele, the reason I didn’t tell you all this before is because I didn’t have time to explain things, and my employer told me that you would learn a stronger lesson through experience than if I’d just told you. That was part of the contract they gave me. Oh,” Moroni snapped his fingers as if he’d just remembered something. “I do need to tell you this, though. Whenever you inhabit a person’s body, you’ll have complete control. The person’s spirit will reside here for a certain amount of time, say seventy-two hours Earth time, or after you kill the demon or get killed, if it’s within the seventy-two hours. And one more thing. If you’re killed while in a body, that person’s spirit will die and move on to their eternal destination.”
Jake felt his heart drop.
“Does that mean—“
“Yes, Mr. Steele,” Moroni interrupted. “Stephen Jacob Taylor died and has gone to his eternal rest.” Moroni saw the look of pain on Jake’s face.
“If it helps,” he said sympathetically, “Mr. Taylor went to Heaven.”
Jake felt some small measure of relief, but was still anguished. If he had not inhabited the man’s body, Taylor would not have died, and there was no telling what the man would have gone on to accomplish. Jake prayed for a few moments, asking God to forgive him, and reflecting on what he could’ve done differently. With the information he had, he didn’t think he could’ve done much. He started to play the what if game, but stopped himself quickly. He knew from past experience no good would come from that. Images of his men being torn apart by explosions and bullets flashed through his mind and he clenched his jaw and fists. He reached and grabbed the bottle of Gentlemen’s Jack and drank several gulps of it, disregarding his earlier promise to himself to stay away from alcohol. When he put the bottle down, he instantly regretted it, but shrugged it off, justifying the action with the thought that the liquor’s effect could be turned off at any time by an act of will, so it was basically guilt free. He took another healthy swallow and looked at Moroni, daring him to say anything.
Moroni sat there silently, a small, smug smile on his face. Jake came close to hitting the man, but held himself in check again. Instead, he put the bottle down and asked another question.
“When I first saw the demon, it looked like a man, then it changed shape, then went back to a man and there was a shimmery effect,” he paused. “Sort of like the skull effect you keep turning on and off for me.” He smirked back at Moroni after he noticed the brief look of startlement on the man’s face. Score a minor point for me, he thought.
“Alright, Mr. Steele, score a minor point for you,” Moroni replied, eerily echoing Jake’s thoughts again. The smirk was back on.
Jake was the one to be startled this time. Before he could say anything, Moroni answered his question.
“To answer your question, Mr. Steele, you’ve been given the gift of discernment.” The man paused for a moment, then, explained after seeing the blank look on Jake’s face.
There is a diversity of gifts given by the Holy Spirit to those who believe and are chosen for special work. Discernment means you can see and understand a person’s spirit. In your case, you’ll be able to see, hear and understand the demons, even though they will be disguised, in most cases as humans.”
Jake started to ask Moroni to elaborate a little bit more, but Moroni raised his hand and stood. Jake stood too.
“Enough, Mr. Steele. I have to go now. When you go back to Earth, try to find the priest you talked to. I will send you back to the same city you were in, as close to the time that your Mr. Taylor was killed. Maybe you’ll get there in time to help the priest.” He stuck out his hand. Jake considered not shaking, but figured Moroni would just leave him there longer to contemplate his own stubbornness, and he didn’t want or need that. In fact, Jake was quiet eager to get back to the fight. He reached out and firmly grasped Moroni’s hand. As he did, he saw the shadowy skull again, then everything faded away.